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The third, I hit in the stomach. He got off a lucky shot before he dropped and it knocks the wind out of me, hitting me squarely in the chest. I drop to my back, trying to draw in air. I know I have to move, or whoever is left will get his weapon up and end me. I roll over just in time, as the bullet hits the spot I just vacated.
Before he can get off more shots, I watch one of the Irishmen rush over and kick his gun from his hand, then land a good kick to his gut, right over his wound. The masked man screams and holds his middle, rolling to the side.
After a few more seconds, I’m able to re-inflate my lungs and get in some much-needed air. Quin rushes over and pulls me up roughly, ripping my shirt open. He touches the three spots where bullets hit my vest, glares at me, then punches me in the face.
“The fuck, Quin?!” I yell, holding my jaw.
“You don’t do shit like that, Savage! That’smyjob!” I know he’s not really mad at me, that he was worried and doesn’t know how to express it. I’m not mad about the punch, even though my jaw is throbbing and I know it’ll bruise.
“Won’t happen again. That I can guarantee.”
I rush back to Paddy while Quin goes to see about the masked fuck that’s still moaning in pain. Bending down, I remove Paddy’s hand to see how badly he’s hurt. “It’s a through and through,” he answers my unasked question. “I’ll be fine. Get Finn over. He can help me in the car and patch me up.” I shout for his man who hurries over. I grab under Paddy’s arms to help him up, and he tucks close to my side while Finn takes his shirt off and applies pressure to the exit wound. “I’ll call you, Savage. About the deal.”
“When you’re better, Paddy.” When I slide him into the backseat, I look at him briefly. “You sure you want this?” He literally just got shot and I’m willing to bet it was the Russians. He’d be in constant danger until he can get rid of them or push them back enough for him to get more guys from Ireland.
He nods, then grunts, shifting in the seat. “I told you, Savage. I love the rush.” He lets out a laugh and I close the door, shaking my head at the crazy Irishman. Finn drives off immediately, leaving the other group from the second car with us.
I make my way over to where Quin is and look down at the unmasked man, whose face is contorted in pain. Definitely Russian. I crouch down beside him and tilt my head to the side. “Having a bad day, huh, champ?” I quip, even though there is nothing funny about this situation. Had Quin not had the forethought to tell me to wear my vest, I’d be dead now. I wouldn’t be going back to Abel.
The man tries to spit at me, but he’s too weak, so it just lands on his face. “Fuck you,” he grits out. Even though it’s barely there, I can detect his accent under his near perfect English.
“Yeah, heard that before. Who sent you?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll kill me, anyway. And if you don’t, my boss will.”
“True,” I say with a shrug. “But tell me anyway.”
“Fuck you,” he says again, then turns his face from me.
I shrug again, then stand. I pull out my gun and unload two rounds into his chest and one in his forehead. Putting my weapon back where it belongs, I look at Quin. “You okay?” His jacket is torn at the arm and there’s a bit of blood around the edges.
He looks down at it and smirks. “A graze. These fuckers can’t aim for shit.”
I would laugh, but I look at the bodies of the six men littering the hangar. Five of mine and one of the Irishmen. Sighing, I look back at my oldest friend and see he’s done the same assessment as me. “They aim well enough.”
The Irishmen grab their downed friend and put him in the car they have left. I walk over to one of them, Declan, and put a hand on his shoulder. “Does he have family?” I ask, angling my head to the car.
He shakes his head. “No. Just a ma back home. No wife, no kids.”
I nod and tell him, “If you need anything from me, money to send him home …”
“We’re good, Savage. Appreciate that. It would have meant a lot to him.” He claps me on the back and they load up, leaving me and Quin alone with bodies littered around us. Quin pulls out his phone and gets more of our guys down here for cleanup.
Twenty minutes later, they pull up and file out of the car, getting to work immediately.
Blowing out a deep breath, I walk over to Quin. “Take me back to my man.”
Quin nods and we leave. I’m eager to get back to Abel. This meeting has been stressful and lets me know I’m making the right choice to get out.
Chapter Nineteen
Abel
“Doyoulikethename Noah?” Michael asks me randomly while we’re watching some action movie he chose. I’m not really paying attention, petting Pogo and biting my lip, worried about Savage. It’s been almost four hours and neither of us has heard anything from Savage or Quin. I want to text him, call him, to see what the holdup is. He said he wouldn’t be long, but this seems long to me. I want to ask Michael if this is typical, but I don’t want to worry him too.
“Huh?” I ask when I realize I was lost in my thoughts and he asked me a question.
“Noah. Do you like that name?”
